I had always been fond of rainy days in Pennsylvania.

Actually, what I like most about rainy days is the continuous reign of drums that come from the droplets themselves. Something so temporary made such a harmonious pattern falling to the ground only to not exist anymore but in that moment.

I remember of a memory of my dad where we..
We..

The feeling of being surrounded by nothing but a storm proclaimed by elements that is loud enough to subdue all thoughts and tame everything louder than the rain itself shows how powerful the elements are. Yet that does not mean that thunder was created to be ignored when it drums its way through the sky, it proclaims that lightning is coming soon,
or is near by.

Like a rapture, storms are demanding.

But I think that's why I've always found myself attracted to storms rather than affiliating with the sun.

There isn't a reason why, it just seems as if storms aren't created to be false but to express and destroy.

I wondered if the storm tonight had found a way to communicate with me from outside of the bedroom window. I watched as the darkness swirled with rain as it daggered its way through the sky and onto the ground. Lightning struck close enough that it lighted my room briefly for a second or two.
Lightning so bright that the whites of the fire seemed as if they were only a couple of yards away. Perhaps that's why I saw beams of red stagger through them once or twice as it destroyed the ground around Storybrooke.

And unsettling yet familiar chaos arose in my chest that then settled in my gut bringing forth an upcoming anticipation.

My eyes were playing tricks on me from how bright the lightning truly was, but I did not care. It was actually quite beautiful.

The storm was a good distraction that took away from the awkward 'Welcome Home' gathering my mother had ordained earlier this evening.

Which is why I spent the rest of my night unpacking my things in the closet and dresser that resided in my room. My clothes smelled like home.
As I put each piece of clothing away, I held each piece of clothing to my face.

The aroma of vanilla candles and pine cascaded it's way into my airway putting the image of my father briefly in my mind.

Reality shifts as I opened my eyes each time, revealing that the only way I could keep my father alive was through memory,
until my own memory fails me
and I forget him
and myself.

But it doesn't matter, there's still pieces of him still in this box I had to unpack and put away into the dresser behind me.

The dresser was wooden, old and used enough times to have the white paint chip off as I opened and closed each compartment. The closet was just a regular closet although it had a light bulb hung at the top of the ceiling with a string dangling from its socket. The light bulb was my favorite part of this room that I remembered , the most real part of it anyway.

My chest began to unsink through the night as I could hear the guests leaving slowly but surely, but I couldn't help but think about why the person who had known me and helped me grow up pretended that I did not exist or even keep the eye contact and emotion I needed to feel.

Why didn't Killian do what he has always done? Control the room.

Better yet, where did Theo go? Why didn't he do more than pick me up from the train station and drop off at the Monster house?
What's the fucking purpose in trying to connect with me on the way here to disapeer and not help or console about the situation that was given?

Why didn't Killian try to find me?
Where did Theo go?

I wanted to go out of my room, demand answers from Killian on why he was acting off and pretend that he wasn't at a 'Welcome Home' party for me, but that's just not my forte. I felt as if even if I decided to go and try to find him I'd still get no answers. So I guess I'll just keep unpacking.

My mind continued to stir as I would put my clothes away, trying to piece together a grand scheme of oddities that did not make sense to begin with.

Until there was nothing left for me to put away.

As I pulled the light string in my closet to turn off the light, I shut the door and turned around to face the piles of empty boxes that cascades the wooden floor. Everything was put away, but yet the mess was still here, facing me.

As I began to stack the empty boxes within each other, putting the small boxes within the bigger boxes, the lights began to flicker in my room.

The freaking storm was messing with the electrical system. I glanced outside seeing the storm was getting getting more rowdy and the color of the sky began to shift from dark to blood red in between lightning flashes.

Even though this did alarm me, I knew it was only a storm.

The worst part will be over soon.

As I focused my attention back at the light fixture in my room, the light stopped flickering and went back to normal.

I shook my head as I zoned back into the reality that I was in and that's when I heard it.

Nothing, absolutely nothing.

Unfamiliar.

No voices, no music, no creaks of people walking on the wooden floorboards.

Nothing.

I stopped putting the boxes together and walked over to my phone on the nightstand. Clicking the phone on, I looked at the time and was astounded.

It's 10:14 at night.

As I waltzed over to my bedroom door, I opened it for the first time since my mother walked me up the stairs and looked out into the hallway.

Complete darkness.

I inched out of my room, searching for any source of light coming from any direction.
And there was none.
I tiptoed down the hallway looking quickly underneath each door that I saw looking to see if anyone was in their rooms and saw no light coming through any of the doors on the upper floor.

Panic started to infuse its way into my chest as a sense of disbelief ushered its way into my mind as I concluded two major things about the 5 hours I have spent here.

I don't know any of the rooms here, let alone who's room is who's.
Where's Henry's room?
Where's my mom's room?

Or the fact that I wasn't even shown around the house, but presented as a trophy to at a party that I most definitely did not want. But that wasn't the worst part in my opinion.

My mom didn't come to say goodnight to me.

Nor Henry or Emma for that matter.

The sadness I had felt at this very moment chilled my body as if the cold breeze from the storm outside had warped its way into the house and consumed my body.

"Mom?" I called out weakly from the end of the hallway. I don't know why I expected my mom to come out of one of the rooms and usher me into her arms asking me what's wrong. Tears formed in my eyes as I realized that my mother wasn't coming out to console me,
And neither was my father.

The coldness began to sprint faster through my body, causing uncomfortable goosebumps to form on my arms and legs. Then I realized that I was still in my clothes from when I came here earlier. I smelled like the storm outside, full of rain and uncontrolled elements.

It was time for a change.
It was getting too weird, I felt out of sync.

I sped walk back to my room with heavy steps as my anger exfoliated out of me. I threw my shoes off of my feet hearing them scatter around me as my shirt and pants followed suit on the ground. I don't care about creating a dirty pile of clothes, nothing around me is clean. Not even the air inside the house, everything just hurt.

I unhooked my bra letting it fall to the floor as I walked over to my dresser pulling on my white high school football tee-shirt following a pair of black shorts.

Tears escaped onto the floor around me as I walked over towards my bed. As I put my body under the covers of my bed, I exhale deeply letting the emotion claw itself out of me in the breath and begin to calm down.

Until.

The power in my room went out. No light, no nothing. The storm had won.

My heart inched its way into my throat to where my breathing became irregular–scarce. I had been through storms before, multiple power outages and flash flood warnings that this was not an irregular occurrence for me. But tonight, the lack of connection between all parties in the house has caused nothing but anxiety and unfamiliarity to the extent where I felt as if I'm living with strangers.

I stopped in the middle of my breath as I heard a crash coming from outside. Not the kind of crash you here when two pieces of metal clang together, but the sound of something being torn apart and flung.

I sprung up out of bed and headed towards my bedroom window and embraced the reality of what I saw outside.

The town was being ripped apart by its seams from the ground up. As if the pieces of wood and debris were being absorbed by the sky and the the odd thing about it was, that the town was being absorbed by the sky. Nothingness surrounded from behind the storm that was heading towards the home, towards me as the skies hue began to expand into a dark red.

It felt as if the devil were eating its way through the town as a means to terminate.

I stepped back from the window and spun around as I felt my throat begin to call out for my mom until my body hit something.

My body recoiled backward until I zeroed in on what I saw,

Or better yet who I saw.

A man as tall as me stood before me, wearing a long black coat, black suit and accomodies before me with his hands in his pockets. His hair was a messy brown mess of curls and his facial hair was neatly kept on his face.

But the iris of his eye darkened his eyes to where I thought his eyes were brown, until lightning struck and the green that surrounded his eye made its debut, but that didn't change the fact that

he was looking right at me.

Right into me.

Instinctually, I retaliated and hit him in the face and kicked him in his knees as I screamed for my mom. But he did not buckle,

as if he had not been hit or struck at all.

"Very interesting mess you've made Violet." The man stated revealing that he had a sort of accent accustomed to himself.

Violet?
Who, what-

I bent down and threw my wet clothes at his face as I attempted to dart my way past him, but he caught my body and flung it to the ground.

As if I weighed nothing.

"Mom!" I screamed.
I screamed a blood curdely scream, the way a toddler does when it cries for its mother to stay when the mother leaves. Everything was falling out of suit, my hand was shown and I now realize that I wasn't playing a game, it played me.

Exhaustion,

Confusion,

Fear

Cascades its way through my body that I don't even care who the stranger is or how the storm was about to tear its way through the home.

I had just wanted my mother here.

The man towered over me, putting his body over mine as both of his feet straddled the sides of my waist as I sobbed.

I sobbed and sobbed as the man stood over me, looking down,
watching me.
Which only made me sob so hard that I was coughing, gagging even.

"Call to mommy all you want Violet. She's not coming ." He said as I screamed for my mom 
in defeat.

I tried getting up but was immediately connected to the ground again, as if my body were stuck to it, "My name is not Violet!" I screamed at him, "What's happening to me?"

He walked over me and walked over my bed and sat on the edge of my bed peering down at me, "You are a piece of the living amongst the dead. This place isn't even your afterlife," the man proceeded to get off my bed and knelt down beside me, propping one arm on the ground as he hovered over me. His eyes glared into my eyes as his cold hand touched my arm as the room began to go black as he said, "Which is why we need to talk."